


Silence

by kronette



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s02e10 Hunted, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:30:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn’t happening. This contains mild Dean/Sam, and is technically an AU to "Hunted", though it doesn't necessarily have to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Written forspn_25 Theme Set:#2 Prompt #25 Murmur

Loud buzzing in his ears from the dual explosions.

White noise drowning out all else. 

He screams again, unable to hear his own voice. 

Can feel the vibrations in his throat, taste the blood at the back of his tongue. 

Feels the scraping agony of tears being ripped from his soul.

Heart stutters. 

Breathing stutters.

Chest constricts, unable to get blood to his heart.

His heart. 

His heart slams against his chest, rocking him forward.

Rocking back and forth, eyes squeezed tightly closed.

Don't see. 

Don't think. 

Don't breathe.

Isn't happening.

Can't happen.

Won't happen.

Is happening. Is happening to…

Won't let it happen. 

Can't stop it from happening.

Can't…heart slams against his chest, rocking him forward. 

White noise in his head.

Hands on his knees. 

Buzzing in his ears.

Hands on his arms. 

Eyes burning with tears.

Hands caressing his cheeks.

Lips pressing to his. Mouth opening his. Familiar touch of heat; wet; want.

Wanting. 

Desperate. Pleading.

Awareness slowly returns. The white noise dissipates. The buzzing in his head lessens with each breath. His hands ache where he clutches in desperate hope. His throat is raw from his screams. His eyes burn from the smoke and tears. His ears still ring from the dual blasts of grenades. His legs are weak, but he doesn't stand on his own. 

Arms encircle him, assuring him. Lips and tongue and murmurs assure him. Scent and touch assure him. But his eyes remain closed, afraid. Afraid that _this_ isn't real. Afraid _that_ is. He pulls back from the intensity of the kiss, _need to know_ overpowering his fear. Opens his eyes.

Sooty. Bloody. Alive. Thankful. _Sam_. "Dean." Strong. Forceful. Shaky. Scared. Needy.

Dean stares into the soulful depths of Sam's eyes, sees the fear, fear of leaving Dean alone, fear of losing _this._ A shaking hand lifts and settles on Sam’s dirty cheek, smearing the dirt and the tears and the ash. He pulls Sam’s head down as he pushes up, lips settling over lips in the barest of touches. 

Dean murmurs, "Sam," against his lips, knowing it's all that needs to be said.

The end 


End file.
